


and we won't run

by cherryvanilla



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Reality, Canada, Hiking, M/M, Meet-Cute, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny did his research before leaving, and so when they start to embark on the bridge by foot, he finds himself tossing off facts like how it’s been crossed by millions of visitors since 1889 and how it’s the world’s largest suspension footbridge. </p>
<p>Dan hums, and Johnny didn’t realize he’d been talking so loud until Brent pauses, turns, and says, “Would you rather be guiding this tour, buddy?” </p>
<p>Johnny’s mouth falls open, and he flushes with embarrassment before sticking his chin out and saying, “Nah, I think you’ve got it for now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	and we won't run

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to amanda, who always listens when I say, "tell me what should happen next" and makes my writing better. 
> 
> This was inspired by that pic of Seabs on top of that mountain during his cup day, and also Tazer's Peru photo. 
> 
> And thanks to amanda for beta <3

Johnny and his friends go to Vancouver, of all places, on their summer vacation, because Dan wants to see more of their own country. 

“Might I remind you I see Canada a lot for my job.” 

“You see airports, hotels, and arenas, Jon,” Dan points out. 

“Alright, well, I saw more of Vancouver for the Olympics.” 

“I was with you and we saw the Olympic Village,” Dan counters. 

“ _Okay_ , but you lived in Seattle.” 

Dan levels him with a patient stare. “Seattle is not Vancouver, Johnny. It’s not even the correct country.” 

Johnny runs out of excuses after that, especially since Blair and Josh have given into Danny’s request. It’s the first time they’ve all been on vacation together in a couple of years and Johnny’s excited about it. He just would’ve preferred something with a bit more culture than _Vancouver_. Plus it feels weird to vacation there when he can easily be recognized and a lot of people there dislike him on principle, despite the Canadian Gold factor. Blair would’ve preferred something more tropical. Josh would’ve preferred Vegas, even though they’ve gone a million times. 

Johnny allowed it in the end, but he told Dan that meant _he_ was picking next year’s vacation (the four of them would be turning 30, it was a Big Deal). 

Truth be told, Johnny’s grateful for this. He’s missed vacations with the boys, and he’s been kind of lonely again since his return to singlehood. 

As if Dan knows what he’s thinking, he elbows Johnny in the side as the plane lands, smiling brightly. 

“Gonna be the best vacation yet, JT.” 

Johnny sure as hell hopes so. 

________________________________

In the fifteen minutes since landing, Johnny’s been stopped for autographs and pictures three times and chirped by a Canucks fan once. He supposes it’s not a terrible ratio, all things considered. The boys stand off to the side, being good sports. A few times Dan is asked to take the photo, and he grins at Johnny as he does. 

“That will never not be weird,” Blair says as they continue toward the ground transportation. 

“Tell me about it,” Johnny replies. 

Their hotel is really nice. They bunk up two and two. It’s not like Johnny can’t afford to splurge, but the boys wouldn’t allow him to pay for them even if he tried, and there’s no reason for them to foot the bill for their own rooms when they can split; Johnny has years of room sharing under his belt to begin with. 

They head down to the hotel bar to just chill for a little bit, unwinding, and it’s nice, fun, despite the bartender giving Johnny dirty looks. So, clearly a Canucks fan, then. 

The guys are highly amused by all of this. Johnny just knocks back his beer and flips them off. 

After, they head down to play some golf. Johnny naturally booked them at a site that has a course, since everyone is into playing and it’s the most convenient. 

Playing with a few beers in him always makes him more relaxed and before long, Johnny’s barefoot and laughing and having a grand old time. 

They agree to keep everything casual and relaxed. On previous trips Johnny has tended to booking all the events and making an agenda, but this time they just fly by the seat of their pants. 

They go whale watching the next day, because it appears to be The Thing To Do. They take a 5 hour tour through the Gulf and San Juan Islands and see not only humpback whales but killer Whales, too. After they’re done, Johnny’s decided that’s really what he wants to do here: more nature tours. 

So in between golfing and drinking and swimming they do a nature and historical tour on the River Queen, through Shady Island. They pass through the historical fishing fleet of Stevenson and Johnny takes a bunch of photos and sends them to Dave. 

“How about a hike tomorrow?” Dan suggests. 

Johnny’s down, but Blair and Josh want a day of just doing nothing by the pool. 

“Fine, party poopers, we’ll go without you,” Johnny bitches, already looking up some possible options on his phone. 

“Real cutting remarks there, Jon, I’m wounded,” Blair replies. 

“Fucking assholes,” Johnny mutters. 

“Aw, he’s getting better!” Josh exclaims, delighted. 

Johnny flips them off.  
______________________________________

Johnny chooses a place called Feel Restored, which specializes in guided tours aimed to “connect you to your own personal power.” Dan calls it “hippie dippie bullshit”. Johnny calls it right up his alley.

Because Dan is a pushover, they go. 

It ends up being a tour group of about six people besides them, with a guide named Brent who Johnny is instantly, hopelessly attracted to. 

Brent’s hair is thick and full and looks made for running fingers through. His shoulders are big and broad, his thighs are thick, and he’s got pink lips that beg to be kissed. 

Johnny hasn’t wanted someone this badly in a long time. 

The tour is to the Capilano Suspension Bridge and Grouse Mountain. Johnny listens to Brent’s soft-spoken voice on the drive up to the site, and when their eyes meet in the rear-view of the van, Johnny’s pulse and dick both jerk in unison. 

Johnny did his research before leaving, and so when they start to embark on the bridge by foot, he finds himself tossing off facts like how it’s been crossed by millions of visitors since 1889 and how it’s the world’s largest suspension footbridge. 

Dan hums, and Johnny didn’t realize he’d been talking so loud until Brent pauses, turns, and says, “Would you rather be guiding this tour, buddy?” 

Johnny’s mouth falls open, and he flushes with embarrassment before sticking his chin out and saying, “Nah, I think you’ve got it for now.” 

Brent raises an eyebrow and smirks a little. “I’ll let you know if I need an alternate.” 

Johnny flushes again, but this time it’s because Brent _winks_ at him. And he’s pretty sure ‘alternate’ was a bonafide hockey reference, which means he recognizes Johnny. 

Dan nudges him as they continue walking. “I dunno if you’re in trouble with teacher or you’re being flirted with,” he whispers. 

Johnny snorts. “That makes two of us,” he mutters in reply. 

____________________________

After 20 more minutes, Johnny’s pretty damn sure it’s got to be the latter. Sometimes he can be slow on the uptake, but every time Brent’s eyes meet his own it’s like a crackle of electricity. And he teases Johnny while everyone else he’s just polite and professional with. Things like: “How about we let The Captain here give us some words of insight into the Capilano River?” and “Nothing like finding your inner power at the top of a Skyline Gondola Ride -- or do you think there’s something better than that, Alternate?” 

Johnny’s replies, in turn, are: “The river is one of three primary sources of drinking water for residents of Greater Vancouver.” and “Well, the cliff walk we did before had only 16 anchor points in the supporting the structure, making it both environmentally sensitive and adrenaline pumping, so I’d say that beats this, but both are less than winning the Stanley Cup.”

Brent grins at him and says, “And Olympic Gold?” 

“And Olympic Gold.”

The people who hadn’t noticed Johnny, or were perhaps too polite to make a fuss about it, now want pictures and autographs and Johnny allows it, while Dan stands off to the side, amused. Brent -- well, Brent looks at Johnny with something akin to annoyance and sheer want. 

All in all the day is a fun time and if nothing else, Johnny realizes by the end of the tour how desperately he wants to get laid by a guy again. Brent really was exactly his type, and it wasn’t something he did often as he’d like, still not out as bisexual and having no real plans on rectifying that in the near future. 

When they get off the bus, Johnny hangs back near Brent until he is done talking to some of the other guests, and then walks up and shakes his hand. 

“Sorry, uh, if I monopolized some of the attention today.” 

Brent laughs, eyes shining. “Don’t worry about it, man. You can’t help captaining off the ice either, it seems.” 

Johnny flushes again, mind going to very dirty places and unable to help it. 

Brent’s eyes narrow and he licks his lips, his hand still firm in Johnny’s grip. “Hey, I’ve got the day off tomorrow. Could take you on a private hike if you’re interested, see some of the sights.” 

Johnny really wants that to be a euphemism, but he doubts it is.

Still, he opts for flirty. “Well, _I’d_ love to, but I think my friends may be busy.” 

Brent’s grin is shark-like as he lets go of Johnny’s hand. “Oh will they be? Bummer.” 

“Total,” Johnny agrees, grinning back. 

“Tell me where you’re staying and I’ll pick you up at 9.”  
___________________________

“JT got a date with the tour guide,” Dan announces when they walk into Blair and Josh’s room. 

“Is she hot?” Josh asks. 

“ _He_ is -- very attractive.” 

Dan laughs. “It was the most unsubtle thing I’ve ever witnessed and you guys owe me for abandoning me to that shit.” 

“Well, _I’m_ abandoning you tomorrow so that should make up for it,” Johnny says and then deals with ‘bros before hos’ chirps the rest of the evening. He can’t even care, though. 

___________________________

 

Brent picks him up in a truck that is in no way affiliated with Feel Restored and he’s wearing regular hiking clothes, not his uniform. If Johnny had any doubts about this outing being strictly recreational, they were assuaged now. 

“Hey there, Captain.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Johnny is fine. Or Jon, whatever.” 

“People mostly call me Seabs,” Brent says, giving Johnny a once over as he climbs into the front seat which makes his face go hot. “But you can call me whatever.” 

Brent grins a little dirtily and god, Johnny kind of wants to forego this entire outing and get Brent on his back somewhere. 

He clears his throat as they start moving. “So, you gonna take me back to that mountain and have us do some yoga?” 

Brent laughs loudly. “Nah, I reserve that hippie-dippie bullshit for work.” 

Johnny’s part shocked that Brent uses the exact term Dan had used to Johnny and part offended because, hey, Johnny loves that “hippie-dippie bullshit.” 

As if sensing something, Brent looks over and smirks. “Have I offended your delicate sensibilities there, Jon? Disrupted your body’s natural balance?” 

Johnny huffs out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “Why do you even work there if you don’t buy into it?” 

Brent shrugs, eyes back on the road. Johnny enjoys taking in his profile, drinking his fill of Brent’s face. “Was a job I could get. Went to the Canada West Mountain School. The field is kind of competitive, believe it or not.” 

“I’ll bet,” Johnny says, completely sincere. 

His response must surprise Brent because he looks at him again, a soft smile gracing his lips. 

“Anyway,” Brent says, clearing his throat and turning back away. “It’s not bad, I like it. People told me I needed more balance and stability in my life anyway. It’s definitely made me -- happier, I suppose.” 

Brent’s words wash over him, and Johnny finds himself struck with the overwhelming desire to learn everything about this guy, to find out what makes him tick. To know why he wasn’t very happy and who he’s shared his life with and what makes him smile. 

It’s a dangerous, impulsive line of thinking, one that Johnny normally doesn’t succumb to so easily. If he’s not having a one night stand, then he’s taking his time with shit. Going on lots of dates and finding out who he might want to let in, who’s worthy of the time he has so little of. There’s no real in between. 

Johnny bites the inside of his lip before pulling some air into his lungs. “That’s great,” he says to Brent, feeling sadly un-balanced himself and in need of some positive energy. 

______________________________

Positive energy, apparently, isn’t in the cards.

The trek up the mountain starts out fine. Brent takes him to a different area from where they went yesterday. It’s a steep climb, and Johnny’s thighs and glutes are certainly getting more of a workout than they’ve had yet this summer, but he welcomes it. Plus he’s loosened up a bit, shaking off the weirdness he was feeling on the drive and falling back into a bordering-on-flirty banter. And then the sky opens up. 

“Shit, did it say rain?” Johnny yells as it starts pelting down on them. 

“No, but the weather changes rapidly this high up,” Brent replies, sounding unphased. “C’mon, there’s a covering up this way,” Brent adds, leading Johnny ahead, except his foot gets caught on something and he’s tumbling forward. 

“Shit!” Johnny says rushing to Brent’s side. 

“Fuckin’ motherfucker,” Brent curses and Johnny watches his face contort with pain. 

“Man, are you alright?” Johnny asks over the rain that’s falling harder now. 

Brent looks up at him, hair wet in front of his eyes. He shouldn’t look so good, Johnny shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him when they’re basically in peril. “Twisted my ankle.” 

Johnny sighs. “Alright, c’mon,” he says, getting Brent to his feet and leading him in the direction of the rock formation shelter that Brent had been walking toward. Johnny sets him down back against the rocks and then grabs his backpack, putting it under Brent’s leg to elevate his foot. 

“Thanks,” Brent says, pushing the wet strands of hair off his forward. Johnny swallows hard, nodding. “You uh, should we do anything right now?” 

Brent shakes his head. “It’s definitely not broken, probably just a sprain. We should wait out the storm anyway, I’ll probably be good to go after.” 

“Okay,” Johnny says, settling in beside him. Their shoulders brush. 

“Let’s just hope there’s no lightning,” Brent says dryly. 

“Oh, jeez.”  
__________________________

There isn’t lightning, thank god, and instead just a fucking monsoon that feels like it goes on forever. Johnny and Brent talk in hushed tones and look at the whatever they can actually make out of the view. 

He listens to Brent tell him about his family and his hobbies. He doesn’t say too much about himself; Brent knows a lot of shit, probably, even though Johnny’s never really felt anyone can really _know_ him unless they’ve spent some time with him. 

So instead he shows Brent pieces of himself, shows him the real Jonathan Toews and not the perfectly put together captain. He shows it to him with the way he responds to Brent’s stories or throws in his own little anticodes. Shows it to him with his blatant disinterest in one thing and his passion for another. Shows him until Brent stops talking and just puts his hand on Johnny’s stomach, fingers splayed there, holding Johnny back against the rocks as he leans forward and in. 

Johnny blinks and licks at his already wet lips. “You know, if you wanted this to happen, you could’ve said. You didn’t need to get injured and make me feel bad for you,” Johnny quips. 

Brent smile is wide. “Is that a fact,” he murmurs, and then leans forward and presses his lips to Johnny’s. 

Johnny groans at the first touch of Brent’s mouth. His lips are cool yet hot all at once, and Johnny can’t help but bring his hand up and shove his fingers into Brent’s wet hair, tugging as they kiss. Brent’s mouth opens beneath Johnny’s, and Johnny licks his way inside immediately. 

Brent lets out a soft moan against Johnny’s lips and kisses him harder, their tongues brushing together again and again. 

“I swear I didn’t plan this,” Brent gasps out when Johnny breaks away to plant kisses down his jaw, Brent’s facial hair scratching against his lips, the sensation setting a spark of want through his body. 

“You sure?” Johnny asks, feeling breathless himself when Brent’s fingers start to skirt beneath his shirt, dipping below the waistband of his pants. “I kinda thought this was a date.” 

Brent laughs, a low rumble against Johnny’s cheek. It feels nice. “Well, yeah, but I figured I’d get you in a bedroom. Or the backseat of my truck, at least.” 

“Classy,” Johnny snorts, grazing his teeth along Brent’s throat. 

Brent’s hand wanders downward, over Johnny’s cock, and he presses his big palm to the length of it, rubbing teasingly. “If you want classy, bud, then you’d better be prepared to turn down this handjob.” 

Johnny in no way, shape, or form wants classy. 

It’s really dumb to be doing this here. They aren’t exactly covered from view, and there could very well be hikers coming up the mountain. But Johnny throws caution to the wind and hopes that the storm has halted everyone’s treks. Brent doesn’t seem like he cares whatsoever, just deftly reaches beneath Johnny’s track pants and pulls him out of his boxers. His hand is too dry and Johnny’s too hard, but the friction is still intoxicating. 

Brent twists his wrist just right and Johnny sucks a bruise into his neck, eliciting a gratifying moan. 

They shift into one another, mindful of Brent’s leg, and pretty soon they’re tangled together, lying back against the rocks and jerking one another off in alternatingly frantic and slow strokes. Johnny’s got his other hand tangled in Brent’s hair still, half gripping the back of his neck to hold him in place while he sucks at his lips, filthy and wet, with the kind of abandon reserved for someone you might never see again. 

Normally, Johnny’s fine with that, but today it makes his chest pang with something unnamed. He pushes it down again, focuses on the way Brent’s lighting him up, inside and out, the white heat at the base of his spine, the way his balls are tightening and his thighs are tensing. He comes on a gasped, muffled cry, Brent biting down on Johnny’s bottom lip while he jerks him roughly as he comes inside his pants and over Brent’s fist. 

Brent isn’t that far behind him, and Johnny listens to his muffled curses and soft, breathy, “Fuck, Jon,” as he spills over Johnny’s own fist. 

It’s awkward after, because shit like this is always a little awkward after. Johnny kind of wants to kiss Brent and just hang here for a while longer, but the rain stopped in the space between them getting their hands on one another’s dicks and coming, and they really should get moving. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Johnny asks, watching Brent’s foot warily. 

“Should be, yeah, but if you wanna give me an assist…” Brent trails off, grinning a little. His eyes are shining and his cheeks are red and his lips are puffy. Johnny probably doesn’t look much different. 

His neck heats up and he nods, pulling his lip between his teeth. “Yeah, no problem,” he says, and they make their way back down with Johnny’s hand anchored on Brent’s shoulder. 

Johnny drives them back in Brent’s car, even though Brent says he’s, “fine to drive, really, Johnny,” but whatever, it’s the least Johnny can do. 

“I’ve still gotta drive myself back to my place myself, you know,” Brent muses when they’re halfway back to the resort. 

Johnny hums. He’s here for two more days. The only time this guy might ever see him again is if he’s watching a hockey game, and that makes Johnny feel brave. Makes him say, “Well, I could drive you all the way back instead?” 

He’s looking at the road, not looking at Brent, and the silence goes on for at least 10 seconds, which as it turns out is an awful long time when you’re actively awaiting a response after essentially offering to spend the night with someone. 

“Your buddies won’t mind?” Brent finally says, just when Johnny had decided Brent’s living with someone. 

“Uh, no, not really. They kind of expected me to be -- for us to have--” 

He feels nervous suddenly, wondering if he really did read this whole thing wrong and it was just strictly a one-time thing with no repeat engagements. Maybe Brent's more than ready to cut ties now.

Brent laughs quietly and Johnny looks over at him, eyes narrowed. 

“What?” he barks out, feeling far too vulnerable right now and not overly used to it. 

Brent shakes his head, still smiling. “Nah, I just -- I dunno, I assumed you were deeply in the closet or something, and snuck off without telling them anything and would be rushing to get back there.” 

Johnny relaxes, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Nah, I mean. Not with the people I’m closest to. But yeah, as far as public appearances go I’m not -- I really don’t plan to --” 

He’s fumbling with his words, suddenly nervous again, and Brent takes pity on him by placing a hand on Johnny’s thigh and rubbing in small circles. “It’s cool, man. Gotta do things at your own pace, right?” 

“Yeah,” Johnny breathes out. 

“So the answer is yes, then.” 

“Hmm?” Johnny asks, looking at Brent out of the corner of his eye. 

He catches the tail end of a smile as Brent says, “Yes, you can take me home, Johnny.” 

“Oh,” Johnny says dumbly. “Cool.” 

Brent laughs again, and even though it seems like Brent is laughing _at_ him half of the time, Johnny really doesn’t seem to mind it. 

Go figure.  
___________________________

He texts Dan when they get to Brent’s place to let him know he won’t be back. He gets sent back a photo of Dan giving an exaggerated puppy dog face and Josh and Blair giving him double birds. 

The caption is ‘u suck but use protection!’ 

_fuck u danny_ Johnny sends back, but he’s grinning broadly. 

“All good?” Brent asks when Johnny joins him at the front door to his apartment. 

“Yep, never better.” 

The first thing they do is get into some dry clothes, Brent lending Johnny sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you a ‘Nucks one,” he teases. 

“You’d better not, buddy,” Johnny says back, only slightly kidding. 

It feels weird but nice, being in Brent’s clothes. They order dinner in and Brent gives Johnny the tour. The place is smallish but cozy. Brent owns a lot of records, and Johnny finds himself sitting on the carpeted floor flipping through them as Brent gets them each a glass of wine. The lighting is dim and the room smells like sandalwood and Johnny just -- really likes being in Brent’s space, seeing what makes him who he is. Brent has a few movie posters on the wall, some photography of mountains and trails. There’s no real theme to his place, not like Johnny’s, which is tastefully done so everything matches. There’s no rhyme or reason to the choices Brent’s made in his place, from his light brown wood record player right down to his black leather couch and white IKEA coffee table. Johnny likes that about him. Likes that the place is a conglomerate of things. 

Johnny finds a Rush album and holds it up. Brent shrugs, smiling a little, and Johnny takes that as permission. He puts it on, and the food arrives as he’s headed to sit on the couch and drink his wine. 

They ordered sushi, and Brent says they can eat at the island in the kitchen. 

“I rarely ever use the dining room table, it feels so formal.” 

They eat and talk about music and steal looks at one another the whole time. Brent’s hair has dried and it looks incredibly soft. Johnny would love to just run his fingers through it and make out. The thought scares him a little. 

They finish up and retire to the couch. Brent turns the record over, and Johnny hadn’t even realized it’d stopped playing. 

“Sometimes I just stack them, even if it only means I’m hearing one side. I get so lazy.” 

Johnny laughs. “The mountain climber can’t be assed to walk 15 feet to change a record, I see how it is.” 

“Damn straight,” Brent grins, and then he’s taking Johnny’s wine glass from his hand, putting it down on the coffee table with his own and tugging Johnny in for a kiss.

“Mmmph,” Johnny says inelegantly, but gets with the program quickly, sliding his hands back in Brent’s hair like he’s been aching to. 

Brent kisses him slow and easy, like he’s mapping the inside of Johnny’s mouth with his tongue. 

They make out until they’re horizontal on the couch, Brent on top of him, his leg in between Johnny’s thighs. 

When things go from slow to frantic, Johnny pushes him back. “Naked this time,” he says, staring at Brent’s kiss-swollen lips. 

Brent’s laughter is mostly a moan. “I am beyond okay with that.” 

“And a bed,” Johnny adds. 

“Well now you’re just getting pushy.”  
_________________________________

Johnny wakes up with his face smashed against someone’s armpit, and it takes him a few seconds to remember where he is. 

He groans and rolls onto his back, stretching out the kinks in his legs and thighs. He looks over and sees Brent still passed out, his mouth open a little as he snores. 

It shouldn’t be so hot, but it is, and Johnny feels the stirrings of want deep in his belly again. 

He could get addicted to this. Which isn’t necessarily the best idea.

He closes his eyes, considers going back to sleep, when Brent makes a snuffling sound and cracks open one eye. 

“Hey,” he says, voice thick with sleep. 

“Hey,” Johnny says. 

“Sleep well?” 

“Yeah,” Johnny says, cheeks going hot as he remembers the night before -- the two of them rubbing against one another, completely naked and making out, until Brent said, “I wanna -- let’s --” and then he’d turned around so he was facing the foot of the bed, propped up on his side, and Johnny got with the program quickly, getting his mouth on Brent’s cock while Brent swallowed him down at the same time. 

It was stupidly hot and he’d do it all over again, except he’s not sure what’s on the table here. 

“You want a shower?” 

Johnny shrugs. “Sure.” 

Brent shows him where everything is. He doesn’t join him. 

When Johnny’s dressed in his clothes from yesterday, which are dry now but still come-stained, he emerges and is fully prepared to accept Brent’s ride back to the resort. Except Brent’s standing at the stove, making eggs. 

“You seem like an egg whites kind of guy, but I don’t have any of those pre-made ones and I’m too lazy to strain them.” 

Johnny rolls his eyes fondly. “I think you keep mistaking ‘lazy’ as just being an asshole.” 

Brent snorts. “That may very well be,” he says, and then surprises Johnny by walking over and kissing him thoroughly before going back to his task. 

“Coffee’s in the pot.” 

“Now those are words I like to hear.” He pours himself a cup, feeling far less tense than he did a few moments ago. 

Breakfast is an easy going affair but as it comes to a close Johnny starts getting anxious again. He texts Dan that he’ll be back soon, because he assumes he will be anyway. Moreover, he _should_ be. He doesn’t want to be that asshole who blows off his friends on vacation. 

“Let me just throw on a shirt and shoes and I’ll take you back,” Brent says at the end of breakfast. 

So that’s that, then. Johnny tells himself he isn’t disappointed. After all, what else could happen here. 

______________________________

The drive back to the resort is quiet, Brent playing some country station on the radio and humming softly to a song Johnny doesn’t know. 

When they pull up he’s already got his hand on the car door, ready to say, “Thanks and see you around,” but Brent kills the engine, and Johnny notices the way his hands flex and release on the steering wheel. 

“So, uh. When do you leave then?” 

“Tomorrow,” Johnny replies. 

Brent nods like he expected something like that. 

“So, uh.” He watches Brent drag his fingers through his hair and recognizes it for the nervous mannerism it is. Then he’s digging into his pocket. “Here. If you’re ever in town again or -- you know, whatever.” 

Johnny’s half expecting a business card or something impersonal like that, but instead it’s a torn- off piece of looseleaf paper with Brent’s name and number in painstakingly neat writing.  
Something tugs in Johnny’s chest at the thought of Brent planning that out, of writing it and sticking it in his pocket while Johnny was showering, rather than being impulsive and pulling out his phone for Johnny to put his number in. 

It feels like it means -- more. Like Brent really means what he’s saying right now, no matter how casual his tone is. 

“Or I could call you,” Johnny says, feeling like he can be forward now, like he’s been given the go-ahead. “Rather than waiting till the next time I happen to be in Vancouver.” 

Brent looks at him, eyes registering clear surprise. Johnny just grins at him smugly. 

“Or you can do that,” Brent agrees. 

Johnny leans in slowly until their mouths are just mere inches apart, heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he ups the ante. “Or I could spend my last two days with my buddies and then extend my own trip till next week.” 

Brent’s laughter is soft and his breath fans across Johnny’s face. “Or you could do that, Johnny.” 

Yeah. Johnny thinks he’ll do that. 

[end]


End file.
